TO THE LIGHTHOUSE
the emotion, the vibration of love. How incon-
spicuous she felt herself by Paul's side! He,
glowing, burning; she, aloof, satirical; he, bound
for adventure; she, moored to the shore; he,
launched, incautious; she solitary, left out —
and, ready to implore a share, if it were disaster,
in his disaster, she said shyly:
" When did Minta lose her brooch? "
He smiled the most exquisite smile, veiled by
memory, tinged by dreams. He shook his head,
" On the beach," he said.
"I'm going to find it," he said, "I'm getting
up early," This being kept secret from Minta, he
lowered his voice, and turned his eyes to where she <
sat, laughing, beside Mr, Ramsay.
Lily wanted to protest violently and out- -'
rageously her desire to help him, envisaging how
in the dawn on the beach she would be the one to
pounce on the brooch half-hidden by some stone,
and thus herself be included among the sailors
and adventurers. But what did he reply to her
offer? She actually said with an emotion that she
seldom let appear, " Let me come with you "; and
he laughed. He meant yes or no—either perhaps.
But it was not his meaning—it was the odd
chuckle he gave, as if he had said, Throw yourself
over the cliff if you like, I don't care. He turned
on her cheek the heat of love, its horror, its